


With Your Long Blond Hair and Your Eyes of Blue

by bowiebaby



Series: Got It Bad [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billy grows his hair out, Billy has a man bun, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Power bottom Billy, Steve really likes it, Steve's House, Steve's got it bad for Billy, Top Steve, thats it that's the story, they fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 01:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowiebaby/pseuds/bowiebaby
Summary: Billy leans back and sweeps his hands through his hair, gathering it back from his face and any danger of dipping into the food. Steve watches, frozen to the spot as he produces a tie from his pocket and secures it all up in a messy bun at the top of his head.Steve’s entire world stops moving.





	With Your Long Blond Hair and Your Eyes of Blue

It takes a while for Steve to notice it.

He loves Billy’s hair. Loves the feeling of it when they lie together, and he strokes his fingers through silky strands. It’s always so soft to the touch and smells like his sandalwood shampoo and products. He likes to pull the strands taught then release, watching them spring back into the natural curl. He likes to watch Billy in the shower, dousing his head beneath the water until it runs his locks smooth. He is fascinated with the way those curls suddenly appear again when he shakes the water out of them, squeezes and pats them with a towel and they’re already twisting and drying into thick, lovely swirls. He loves the look of them when they are completely dry, before Billy puts any product in and they are thick and shiny and luscious and he can run his fingers through without finding a single knot.

Billy lets him brush them sometimes; lies out on the floor with his back against Steve’s knees and lets him run a comb through, sometimes he even lets him braid them. Steve thinks he looks stunning with them pulled into plaits, makes his eyes shine like blue oceans and his jaw more angled. 

When Steve _does_ notice Billy’s hair getting longer, it stops him dead in his tracks.

Where it used to curl on his shoulders, it now falls down to his chest. He’s too used to seeing the curls tucked into the collar of his jean jacket. They’ve been spending more nights this week on surveillance with the kids, walking the woods near where the tunnels were, on the look out for Demo-Dogs and any stray wanderers from the Upside Down. He and Billy have barely had any time together outside of karting the kids about from the Arcade to Hopper and El’s cabin.

Tonight, its finally just the two of them, and when Steve hears Billy come through the front door, shouting a greeting, he’s not really paying him much mind, too busy ordering the take-out food over the phone and making sure he doesn’t accidentally give them the Byer’s address like he did last time.

When he hangs up the phone, he wanders into the living-room to find Billy standing by the stereo, jacket off, white, half-opened shirt and blue jeans and bare feet. He’s got his back to Steve as he thumbs through his mother’s records, humming away to himself and Steve is just staring at that one strand of hair falling down his neck, almost reaching halfway down his back.

Billy selects a record, flips it in and presses the needle down and soft music fills the air. He turns to Steve and smiles.

Steve is just staring at the locks of golden curls that weave their way down his chest, sitting level with his mother’s necklace on his chest.

How the _hell _had he not noticed how long it had gotten?

It has Steve feeling all sorts of things when Billy flips some of it over his shoulder, not paying him any mind, and helps himself to a glass of his father’s good scotch.

He hands Steve one and stops, cocking his head to look at him and the ends of his hair fall lower, brush against the arm that holds his drink out to him.

“You with me, Pretty Boy?”

Steve just nods dumbly, accepts the glass and takes a drink, grimacing and breathing out the burn in his throat as Billy turns, hair swishing around him as he plops himself down on the couch. He lounges back, looking relaxed and content and Steve is just staring at how that hair of his drapes over the arm of the couch, teasing him.

He goes over and slides down next to Billy, the blond’s arms opening to hold him close, lips kissing his forehead and settling down against him comfortably.

Steve curls a finger around a lock of hair and plays with it, feels the soft, silky touch of it between his thumb and forefinger.

“I like it,” he says softly, combing his fingers through.

“Like what?” Billy asks, shifting to look at him softly.

He threads his fingers through again, “your hair, it’s gotten longer. I like it.”

Billy threads his own fingers through Steve’s messy hair, leans down to kiss him, tasting of scotch and honey, “thought you were the one with the best hair in this relationship?”

He says it against Steve’s mouth and he laughs, nips at Billy’s bottom lip in retaliation and the blond chuckles, big hands cupping Steve’s head and tilting it to kiss him deeper.

Steve melts into it, presses himself in against Billy as he sinks into the cushions. He sighs into the kiss, soft and warm and wet, Billy’s mouth tasting divine, his lips soft and warm and his teeth nipping teasingly.

He could kiss Billy for hours, he really could. From the first kiss to this one, they’re all wonderful. So toe curling, heart-warming, gut tighteningly wonderful. They lie there for a while, kissing lazily, glasses abandoned on the coffee table and Steve’s fingers unwilling to unwind from Billy’s hair.

A knock at the door makes Steve jump and the magic is broken, Billy breaking the kiss to shove Steve off him.

“Food’s here, off you go.”

Steve grumbles, “some boyfriend you are, making me do all the work,” he teases, grabbing his wallet and heading to the door.

“Hey, I’m a guest,” Billy shouts after him, making Steve chuckle, “you should spoil your guests.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He pays for the food and when he closes the door after thanking the delivery guy, he’s got half a mind to just eat the lot of it himself, see how Billy likes that. Instead, he walks into the living room and stops when he sees that Billy has set out plates and cutlery and even a little candle on the coffee table. He’s sitting cross legged on the floor by his setting, smiling smugly at Steve who melts.

“Who’s the best boyfriend now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, fighting the grin threatening to split across his face because Billy Hargrove may be a pain in the ass, tough as nails and the world’s biggest smartass. But when it comes to Steve, he’s goddamn adorable.

He helps him set out the cartons of Chinese food, heaping stuff from each onto their plates. The music has been changed to something softer, something with sweet words in it that makes Steve feel all warm inside that Billy picked it out for him. The candle casts him soft and lovely in the light and his hair shines like spun gold.

Then, once all the food is dished out and ready to be eaten, disaster strikes.

Billy leans back and sweeps his hands through his hair, gathering it back from his face and any danger of dipping into the food. Steve watches, frozen to the spot as he produces a tie from his pocket and secures it all up in a messy bun at the top of his head.

Steve’s entire world stops moving.

Billy tightens the tie around his hair, blue eyes looking brighter, the angles of his face looking deeper. He looks like an elven prince or a Viking King. He looks like a royal from a mysterious, far away land and Steve’s eyes are stuck on the few strands that fall out of the bun, sway around his face, brush soft caresses against the skin of his neck.

No, okay. _No_

That is just too far.

“Okay, get up,” he demands, throwing down his fork and getting to his feet.

Billy looks at him, fork laden with fried rice and curry sauce halfway to his mouth, “what?”

“Get up.”

He drops his fork slowly and gets to his feet, watching Steve warily.

Steve just rounds the coffee table and shoves him onto the couch, attacking his mouth and fisting his fingers into those golden locks, pulled tight into that world-ending bun.

If Billy minds at all the quick turn of events, no one would ever be able to tell.

His arms come around Steve instantly, tugging him into his lap, holding him close to his chest. His head tilts back, neck resting on the cushions and he kisses Steve back eagerly. He moans as Steve bites at his lips and tightens his hold on his hair, tugging harshly. He can feel him getting hard fast beneath him and Steve grinds his hips against him desperately, those big, warm hands flying to his waist. He opens his mouth and Billy’s tongue slips in, sliding deliciously, breathing hot into him as he moans and moans, Steve whining as desperation takes over.

“Jesus, Princess,” he says breathlessly when Steve breaks away to breathe, eyes hooded and dark on him, “what’s gotten into you?”

Steve just shakes his head, surges forward to kiss him again, hands unwilling to release their hold on that hair. Billy takes initiative, most likely guessing what’s gotten Steve so hot and bothered if the chuckle he feels against his mouth is any indication. He leans forward and tugs his shirt off his back, hands flying to Steve’s who whines when he breaks the kiss to shove it over his head and toss it behind him.

The press of his skin against Steve’s is heavenly; the clink of his necklace sliding on its chain, the brush of his soft chest hair against Steve’s, the heat of his flushed skin, pressing in all the right places. His big, lovely hands hold him close, moving up and down his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin and it makes Steve jerk and shiver into the kiss.

“I want to fuck you,” Steve says against his mouth and grins at the sharp gasp it elicits from the younger boy.

Billy nods frantically, the bun bouncing, and Steve has the strangest urge to lean down and bite it.

“Here. Now,” is Billy’s breathless reply and his hands fly to Steve’s jeans, fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

Steve whines, impatient and glaring at that pile of hair that started all this mess and resolves to attach his mouth to Billy’s neck. The blond moans and Steve feels it against his mouth, pressing messy, open kisses down the column of his throat, licking at the salt of his sweat that gathers at the base and sucking at the pulse point, feeling it hammer beneath his tongue.

“Fuck, baby, you keep doing that and this isn’t going to last long,” Billy berates him, but then he’s got Steve’s jeans undone and a hand down his briefs and Steve’s mind goes blank as his big, warm hand wraps around his cock and squeezes.

His hips stutter forwards into the touch and his mouth opens and closes over that part behind Billy’s ear he knows makes him go mad and he skinks his teeth in. Billy curses, fist tightening around him and Steve whines with his skin between his teeth, tongues at it, sucks, fingers threading into the tight hairs at the back of his head and tugging.

Billy releases his hold on Steve, pulling his hand out of his confines and chuckles at Steve’s answering whine.

“Get off.“

Steve pulls back, mouth wet from mauling Billy’s throat and stares at him. Billy smirks up at him and swats lightly at his ass.

“You wanted to fuck me, right?”

Steve nods.

“Then get off me, so I can get on you.”

That has Steve scrambling up, turning to sit on the other side of the couch and Billy presses a palm against his chest, Steve watching at he grins and sinks to his knees in front of him.

“Lift,” Billy commands, hands at the top of Steve’s jeans and he tugs them down when he complies, pulling them down and off Steve, briefs and all and tossing them carelessly to the ground.

Steve’s cock springs free, hard and already leaking, curling up to his stomach. Billy licks his lips as he eyes it, watching it twitch as Steve watches that hungry gaze on him. The blond winks at him and moves, taking him in hand and leaning down to wrap his mouth around him.

“F-fuck -”

Billy hums as if in agreement but doesn’t stop. His other hand moves to Steve’s hip, pinning him down as he skinks lower. Steve is on cloud fucking nine. Billy’s mouth is heaven; warm and wet, tight and he does miracles with that tongue of his. He sinks lower, until Steve is pressing against the back of his throat and lingers there. Steve throws his head back and moans, that tight, wet heat around him, so spine tingling, toe curlingly good and Billy being the tease that he is knows it.

He pulls off, tonguing at the head, coating his lips with Steve’s essence and uses it to ease his way as he sinks down again, tongue moving against the thick vein at the underside of his cock and Steve’s nails dig into the fabric of the couch.

Billy makes a noise around him and his hand moves to tug one of Steve’s up and into his hair. Steve’s cock jumps in his mouth and he tugs the hair tie out, watching those curls tumble free, down around Billy head and he twines his fingers in, pulling them out of the way and holding them in a death grip.

Billy shivers and moves faster, sucking like his life depends on it and every nerve in Steve’s body sparks in response. He tugs as his hips buck up into Billy’s mouth, sliding in until his head presses into that throat and Billy stills, letting him, swallowing around him and moaning when his grip in his hair tightens.

Steve feels his orgasm rushing to him, feels it in every warm fuzzy feeling in his very bones, in every cell. His legs feel like jelly and his gut curls and he tightens his grip again.

“B-Billy – fuck – close.”

Billy nods, pulls off with one last, long suck and Steve pops out of his mouth. Billy grins at him, mouth glistening and breathing heavy and all he can do is watch with hungry eyes as he digs into his pocket for a packet of lube that he seems to carry with him everywhere and tugs his own jeans off.

Steve watches, mouth watering as his lovely cock bobs in front of his face, dark, golden hairs around the base, long and thick shaft and glistening, flushed head. Billy bats his hand away when he reaches for him and climbs into his lap instead, tugging the packet open with his teeth and slicking up his own fingers.

“Hands to yourself, Pretty Boy, you’re going to watch me.”

Steve feels like he might just pass out.

He watches Billy lean back, strong thighs either of Steve’s, pinning him down, close enough that he just brushes against his cock and Steve’s stomach twitches, so fucking close he’s sure that one proper grind from Billy would get him there.

Instead, he just reaches up a hand and laces his fingers into the ends of those strands and watches Billy lean back, hand disappearing behind him as he open himself up.

Billy is stunning any day. But here, like this, he is goddamn breath-taking.

Steve watches, enthralled as Billy sighs, head back and long neck exposed, marked by Steve’s mouth. He moves, sinking a finger into himself and sighs, ducking his chin to open his eyes and fix a heavy gaze on Steve. The brunet shivers, fingers tightening their hold on him, gut curling and cock jumping at the force of hunger in those eyes. Billy’s lips curl up at the corners and he moans as he presumably presses another finger into himself. His hips move back and forth in little thrusts as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of himself. His cock hangs heavy between them, leaking and pulsing and Steve wants his mouth on it so bad but is torn between that, watching this show Billy is putting on for him and just shoving the guy to the floor and fucking him good and hard like his body is itching to do.

Billy shifts again, hips moving faster, other hand clinging to Steve’s shoulder. Steve can hear the slick noise of him, the sound of his fingers moving in and out of himself, the squelch as he curls them, trying to find that spot that makes him see stars. He whines after a while, frowning at Steve, unable to reach it at this angle and that breaks Steve’s resolve.

He surges up, pulls Billy’s fingers away gently and the blond allows him, wrapping both arms around Steve’s neck, holding him close so Steve’s mouth can press into the hollow of his throat.

Steve runs his finger down the cleft of Billy’s ass, groaning in the back of his throat at the solid plush of his cheeks, the wetness of the lube at his rim, how easy it is for him to wet his fingers and sink one in.

Billy trembles and gasps out a moan, head back, hair coming down to brush against Steve’s arm and that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. He sinks in another finger, feeling the stretch of him around them, the tremble of Billy’s body, the sound of him moaning his name again and again. He presses in a third finger, going slower, holding Billy to him as his hips thrust and stutter, trying to get his fingers deeper while seeking friction for his abandoned cock.

“S-Steve, baby, come on – more, please, come _on_ -”

Steve curls his fingers in reply, had hazy with the sound f Billy’s voice like that, all wrecked and hoarse. He finds that soft part inside him and presses in to it and Billy curses, bucking down onto his fingers and digging his nails into Steve’s neck.

“Fuck me, Steve. Please baby I need you now, I’m ready, please.”

Steve has to grit his teeth, his cock threatening to end all of this right now just hearing Billy like that.

“Okay, love, okay.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly, Billy sighing and busying himself with pressing sloppy kisses to Steve’s neck while he reaches for the lube. He pulls away to let Steve coat himself, pumping his length a few times before tugging Billy close. Billy’s chest heaves with his breathing as he positions himself, taking Steve in hand and pressing the blunt head against his rim. He looks to Steve and the brunet can only watch in wonder.

Billy sinks down on him slowly, eyes shut and mouth open, cheeks flushed and chest heaving until he is seated against Steve’s hips. The brunet grunts, fingers digging in to the skin of Billy’s hips as he settles himself there. Billy throws his head back with a sigh, hair going with him and Steve watches, mesmerised as the Cali boy shivers and twitches around him. He lingers there, Steve buried deep inside him, stretching him and filling him.

“So good,” Billy breathes out, “love feeling you in me.”

Steve just nods dumbly, head swimming with the tight heat of Billy around him. Billy shifts his knees on either side of Steve and moves, rolling his hips forward, grinding down on his length inside him and white, hot pleasure sparks through Steve’s very soul. He throws his head back against the back of the couch with a loud moan and Billy does it again. He clenches his fingers, nails digging in to the boy’s soft skin and rises his head again, wanting to see Billy.

He’s goddamn beautiful like this. All lean muscle beneath soft skin, cheeks flushed and eyes dark and hooded, glinting in the low light. He’s breathing hard out of plump, parted lips and Steve wants to lean up and bite them, suck the lower one into his mouth and feel Billy’s vibrating moan against him but he refuses to tear his gaze away for even a second, even blinking is an inconvenience to him and this beautiful image.

Billy’s hair hangs around his shoulders, sticking to sweat soaked skin and swaying with his movements as he rolls his hips again and again. He starts to move faster, raising up in pulls that drag Steve’s length in and out of him, sinking down and shifting until every thrust brushes against his prostate and has him moaning and throwing his head back, hair flying around him as he finds his pleasure, riding Steve like a goddamn pro.

“Need more,” Billy moans, legs trembling and tiring.

Steve nods, eyes still caught on the sway of that golden hair and slows his thrusts, hands moving to Billy’s thighs to lift him off.

“Up,” Steve says, helping Billy lift off him, his tired legs trembling beneath his fingers. He stands and moves Billy to lean on his knees over the couch, draping his body over the back, knees on the cushions that he can see have some lube spilled on them that Steve will worry about later.

Steve drags his hands down that lovely back, feeling the muscles twitch and jump beneath his touch. Billy turns his head, resting it on his arms to watch over his shoulder as Steve takes himself in hand again and pushes into Billy once more.

“Steve – Steve, Jesus fuck.”

He grins, hands on Billy’s hips, pulls him closer until he is pressed up against his ass and holds him there. Billy moans, clenching around Steve inside him.

“You’re so deep – fuck, baby so big, so good.”

Steve grits his teeth, moaning in the back of his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding into the tight pressure of Billy, watching his boy moan and tremble, hips moving to meet his thrusts. He picks up the pace, wanting to hear Billy moan louder, wanting to ruin the boy, wanting to see him come completely undone on his dick.

He pulls almost all the way out, watching as Billy’s rim pulls tight around him, dragging against him, tight and wonderful. He pauses before thrusting back in in one, hard push. Billy moans, louder than before and he does it again, again, and again. He picks up a brutal pace, fucking into Billy like his life depends on it.

“Yes, baby, yes, like that, fuck me.”

The sound of skin slapping in skin fills the air, heavy with the smell of sweat and sex. Steve leans forwards, never breaking his stride and fists a hand into that hair and tugs, pulling him up to press his chest against his back and hold him like that.

He thrusts again and Billy moans, hands reaching around to cling to him, hand on the small of his back to encourage him not to stop.

“So deep – right there, Steve, come on, I’m so close.”

“Me too, love,” he gasps out, feeling strands of Billy’s hair against his face. He wraps his other hand around Billy’s cock and pumps him in time with his thrusts. It only takes a few strokes and Steve promising to come inside him, breathing it into his ear before biting down on his neck and Billy is coming, shooting all over Steve’s hand, some lading on the couch but Steve can’t find a moment to care. Because Billy is clenching around him, moaning his name, trembling in his arms and then he’s coming too, thrusting like a mad man as he empties himself in Billy. They collapse onto the cushions, plastered together with sweat, breathing heavy and trembling in their combined afterglow.

After regaining his breath, Billy shifts, turns his head to press a kiss against Steve’s cheek.

“Food’s cold,” he says, voice hoarse and ruined and his words curved with his smile.

Steve chuckles, forces himself to move, pulling out of Billy slowly and grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe himself clean before gently doing the same to Billy.

When he’s done, Billy gets to his feet, a little wobbly, neck a mess of bruises and cheeks bright, eyes sparkling and a grin that could light up all of Hawkins on his face.

“I’d pick you over Chinese food any day,” he says before pulling Steve in for a slow, tender kiss.

They shove their ruined clothes into the washer and Steve changes into a pair of sweats and a jumper, bringing a spare set for Billy to wear. They microwave the Chinese food and sit, grinning like idiots eating it on the floor, listening to the records and stealing food of each other’s plates.

When its time for bed, Billy tugs Steve upstairs by the hand and throws himself into the covers with him. He turns when Steve prompts him and lets the brunet spoon him, nose buried in his hair and arms wrapped around him.

He makes Billy vow never to let a pair of scissors get anywhere near his head.


End file.
